Day 12: 14,091 bowls of Hay Soup at a Semi-Mandatory Work Potluck

Enjoy.

As I finish putting the final touches on my updated Curriculum Vitae before leaving for work for the day, I am reminded that everyone is expected to bring something to a potluck. I can’t just show up empty handed like an asshole and eat everyone else’s offerings. That would be truly offside.

I head to my pantry to scavenge for something, anything, that could pass as ‘food’ at the potluck. Unfortunately, my pantry is bare. All that I can find is a half-eaten and expired bag of Craisins. It’ll have to do. Maybe I can serve it in a fancy bowl to distract from it’s inadequacy?

Yeah. That’ll work.

After a morning at work battling the incredibly slow Wifi and wishing there really was a VIP Wifi, it’s time for the potluck. I head to the conference room, joining the streams of bleary eyed and hungry looking hoards exiting their offices and cubicles all walking slowly in the same direction.

I’m embarrassed to see the effort that others have put into the dishes they are carrying. But also confused by the selection of options. My expired craisins may be the most edible item I see on my way to the potluck.

There is a large table set out, with folded index cards and pens for us to indicate the name of our dish and ingredients. The selection already in place by the time I arrive is truly baffling.

Classic Snickers Salad: chopped Snickers, apples and grapes, mixed with vanilla pudding and cool whip.

Classic Jello Salad: lime jello, cottage cheese and pecans.

Deluxe Jello Salad: cherry jelly with apple slices on a pretzel base, topped with plain cream cheese.

Bacon-wrapped stuffing balls: stuffing, wrapped in bacon.

Summer rain salad: Onions and shaved almonds in vinegar

Classic Pizza in a Jar: Marinated carrots, white onions, mushrooms, fresh coriander, mozzarella, and avocado sauce.

Classic Butter tarts: Marinated carrots, white onions, mushrooms, fresh coriander, mozzarella, and avocado sauce

I add my fancy bowl to the end of the table. I label it: Craisins, expired October 2017.

It fits right in. 

Since everyone else seems to be sitting down watching a makeshift stage intently, I follow their lead. Next to the makeshift stage is another table, covered with steaming bowls. I wonder what that is.

A hushed silence falls over the room.

A man walks to the podium. He has the air of power and calm that only wealth can provide. His silver hair shines in the glow of the overhead fluorescent lighting, almost as though he has a halo. His skin is also glowing. He looks fresh, rested, the picture of health.

When he steps to the microphone and starts to speak, I recognize his voice immediately.

“Good afternoon, staff and underlings,” Chadwick Penneyworth starts, his voice stately and moneyed. “Now I know that I had said that today’s Semi-Mandatory Potluck Lunch was purely for ‘fun’ and ‘socializing’, but I simply could not pass up this opportunity to steal your attention for a few more minutes.

“Chuck reminded me that now that we are back gathered in the office, many of you are dreadfully out of date on your mandatory WHMIS training. And we now some other required trainings, including ‘Diversity, Equity and Inclusion Training’ and ‘Accessibility Training’. We will all do this in our ‘fun gathering’ today. ‘The most fun you can have is mandatory learning’, is what I always say. In fact, it’s on a plaque in our lobby. It was just installed today. Go check it out after we are done here.

“But before the learning, I wanted to introduce the food that I have brought for the potluck. Which you are lucky to try. Many of you may already know that I am a Michelin-starred chef in my free time. Or at least I endeavour to be.

“What child has never sampled a mouthful of earth or leaves, or felt the urge to crunch a creepy crawly? I have never lost the curiosity and wonder that drives children to explore the world with their senses. I spend my days foraging herbs and berries, mosses and lichens. I use pine needles to smoke meat, and stones to infuse soup. The trees no longer hold any secrets: I'll use larch essences as a flavouring, conjure a refined sauce from birch sap, and mix ashes of burnt bark with flour to make bread. Wood, peat, hay, ferns: everything that the forest has to offer can be found in my laboratory of flavours.

“My approach is archaic. I am inspired by nature and music. Our first course will be a hay soup. To create this, I put hay in boiling water which has been seasoned with salt that I have imbued with a Mozart symphony by placing it on a plate over a speaker. The salt will not taste any different, but my cooking will be better. The soup stock has also had it’s own journey, which starts in the clouds high above the Alps. I make a fire in the open and collect the melted snowflakes that passed through the smoke. The snow is smoked for three hours, before being infused with milk foam and hay stock. The soup is garnished with whatever I found on the forest floor today.

“Now if you listen closely, not just to my voice, you will hear the same Mozart that I used to imbue the salt playing in the background. Listen? Do you hear it? Not only is it Mozart, I have used AI to generate a song that is Mozart’s most famous symphony but with an AI voice singing all of your names. The essence of Mozart and the essence of The Bank of Nova Scotia Stratford branch, all in one. Imbued in the salt for the soup. Imbued in this room, filled with so much wonder and joy.

“I will now take my leave. You may give me a standing ovation as I make my way slowly out of the room. If you have any questions, please direct them to my associate Levi,” he finishes, motioning to a medium-sized dog in the corner.